


A kiss with a fist (would be better than this)

by MiriRainbowitz



Series: those were our wives (who decided to fuck) [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-09 23:43:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5560447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiriRainbowitz/pseuds/MiriRainbowitz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She thinks that maybe, a few years down the line – a few years of a cold, lonely, king-sized bed, a sham of a marriage – she’ll go insane with the loneliness of it all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Eliza

**Author's Note:**

> Both chapters of this fic are set some time between "Our kids are pretty great" and "Nobody needs to know"

“Hey,” Alexander says as he kisses the air just above her lips – putting on a facade for the kids – and Eliza should probably be used to the pang of loss, heartbreak, sadness she feels at the lack of actual contact, considering Alexander has been doing this for weeks now.

Their confrontation had been early Thursday morning, and all through the day, when Eliza hadn’t been too busy crying about their ruined relationship, she had wondered whether Alexander would come home Friday evening. He’d made it a habit – he wanted to see his wife and kids at least once a week – but she probably wouldn’t have blamed him if he hadn’t come home. After all, she’d basically single-handedly destroyed his personal life, and he would have had less than 48 hours to cope.

She’d been so relieved when the black car had pulled up in front of the house, she’d all but flung open the door as Alexander walked up the steps. She’d leaned forward, because she’d still been expecting their usual “Hey”, followed by a kiss.

Then he’d said “Hey,” and his voice had cracked in pain, and while she was standing there, frozen, he’d leaned forward and kissed the air above her lips, and rushed into the house, skirting around her like he could barely stand to be near her before disappearing into his study, and Eliza had let out a small, quiet “Hey” to the empty air.

It had hurt then, and it had hurt every week since then, and today was no different.

During supper, Alexander focuses his attention on the kids, asking Philip and Angie and Alex how their weeks at school have been, fussing over James and John, and not once does he look at Eliza or talk to her. Like the not-kisses, he’s been behaving like this for weeks, and Eliza is silent in return, mechanically eating her dinner while her thoughts wander.

She and Alexander had apparently come to an unspoken agreement – pretend to be civil, for the kids. She supposes it’s working, never mind that Alexander only comes home a for a few hours every week now – there for Friday dinner, and as soon as that’s over, he goes – somewhere, she doesn’t know, doesn’t bother to ask, because that would probably break the fragile truce that their mutual silence has built.

Eliza hates it, with all her heart, but what can she do? She’s the one who put them in this position in the first place.

The horrible thing is – she’s still not sure she regrets it. She _should_ – she really, really should – but if she’d regretted it, she wouldn’t have continued the affair after the first time, but she’s probably a horrible person, because part of Maria’s appeal had been the wrongness of it all.

She thinks that maybe, a few years down the line – a few years of a cold, lonely, king-sized bed, a sham of a marriage – she’ll go insane with the loneliness of it all. She’d cut off all contact with Maria after Alexander had found out, so there’s going to be no one and nothing to stave off the crushing solitude of it all.

The sound of a chair being pushed out startles her from her thoughts, and she looks up to see Alexander getting up, his plate clean. “Sorry, kids,” he says. “I have to go now. Be good for your mother.”

The kids chorus out their goodbyes, and Alexander is gone, and forget a few years – if she survives a full year of this with her sanity intact, it’ll be a miracle. Maybe… no. She’s not going to call Maria. She’d made a promise.

She squashes the voice in her head that’s whispering about the promise she’d made to Alexander on their wedding day, and how – oh, _how_ – she had broken that.


	2. Alexander

It scares Alexander, how much still loves Eliza.

She’d broken his heart, effectively ruined their marriage, and destroyed his trust, and honestly, the only reason he should still be going home was to see their kids.

But every Friday, when he says “Hey” and kisses the air over her lips, he still desperately wants to close that distance, to hold her and love her, and that’s scarier than the nightmares he used to have about the people he loves dying before his eyes.

If anyone were to observe him, he thinks he would fool them into believing that he is utterly unaware of Eliza’s presence, and God, he wishes that was true. The truth is, whenever they’re in the same room, he’s always aware of her, somewhere on the periphery of his mind.

It’s torture, because one part of him still lights up in her presence (he hides that part, very carefully, and especially from her) and another part that feels nothing but pain and sadness when he’s near her. He’d ask himself why he would do that to himself, but he’s always had a high tolerance for pain – emotional now, too, not just physical, apparently. That and the kids – he never wants to subject them to the pain of growing up without a father, especially if he’s alive.

The first night, he leaves as soon as dinner is finished. Eliza had seemed surprised for a second when he announced that he had to get back to work – something very important that needed to be done by tomorrow, he can’t put it off – and somehow, Alexander managed to hold himself together through saying goodbye to the kids, and through the car ride back to the White House, until he was in his office, his door locked, and only then did he start crying.

He’s probably a bit of a horrible person, because there had been a part of him that had felt vindicated by Eliza’s mostly-concealed pain, that had whispered _she deserves it because she caused you pain_ , but it’s _Eliza_. He loves her, he’s married to her, and he’s not sure he can stand the thought of her suffering, even if people would agree that she deserves it.

He doesn’t know how long he was crying in his office, but the sound of his cell phone ringing brings him out of his haze and he sees John’s face on his screen. Wiping his eyes with one hand – not that there’s anyone to see, not that it’ll do any good – he picks up the phone with the other. “Yeah?” he asks.

“Do you want me to come and pick you up?” John asks in reply. “Or are you gonna sleep in your office?”

Alexander is tempted to say that he’ll sleep in his office, but John had gone to the trouble of setting up the spare room for him, and a bed is certainly going to be more comfortable than the couch, or worse, his desk, and he doesn’t want to be drowning in his pain alone. “Yeah, pick me up,” he says.

“I’ll be there in half an hour,” John promises, and Alexander makes a noise of affirmation before hanging up. Half an hour… he can probably get some more work done.

His phone ringing startles him out of his work-haze, and it’s John calling again. “Look, man, can you hurry up and get out here? The security guard is giving me dirty looks because I’ve been sitting here for a few minutes.”

“Sorry, I lost track of time,” Alexander replies as he starts saving things and shutting down. “I’ll be out in 5.”

“Dare I ask how dinner went?” John asks as Alexander gets into the car.

“I kissed the air over her lips in greeting,” Alexander replies. “And the kids are doing great in school. Actually, you should hear what Angie did in class this week…”

He keeps talking about the kids, and thank God there’s enough to talk about there that he can fill the whole car ride with chatter about anything but the massive, pain-inducing elephant.

They finally pull up to John’s house, and before Alexander can get out of the car, John puts a hand on his shoulder. “Look, Alexander – do you want to talk about it?”

Alexander actually pauses before he speaks. “No – well, not right now. Maybe in a bit. Right now it’s too – much, y’know?”

“Well, whenever you’re ready,” John replies. “Now c’mon, those of us who aren’t the human equivalent of the Energizer Bunny actually need some sleep so we can function in the morning.”

“I am not – yeah, no, I totally am,” Alexander says. “Well, it’s better than calling me a tomcat.”


End file.
